


Submerged

by Hoodoo



Series: The Bar at the End of the Universe [16]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: F/M, Tentacles, Underwater Sex, wonky science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-22 15:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: A Rick who can't make it to the Bar asks our intrepid Barkeep to visit him. She knows why he's asking, and agrees to meet him on his terms.





	Submerged

**Author's Note:**

> I received this request: _"Would you be so inclined to write about a Rick with tentacles, but this time it's because he's a type of sea monster. Would be better if it includes your bartender"_
> 
> Of course I would be so inclined!

“No kids!” the bouncer roared over the noise of the patrons.

It’d been loud enough that the bar quieted down for a second, and en mass everyone looked towards the door. 

The reply to the order was too soft to hear. You strained, but were unsuccessful in understanding any response to the directive. Peering through the crowd, however, you could see a boy wearing jeans and a yellow shirt, and what looked to be a fish bowl over his head. Before you could scrutinize him further, however, the bouncer shoved him back out the door and slammed it shut.

He glared at the door as if expecting the kid to try coming back in, but he didn’t, and gradually the commotion of the place picked up again. You went back to pulling taps.

After last call, you asked your co-worker about the boy.

“He was a weird-lookin’ Morty,” the bouncer told you. “Fish like, kinda. You know, had gills and webbed hands and stuff. Scaly.”

“And there wasn’t a Rick with him?” you pressed. 

The bouncer gave you a long-suffering look. “Sweetheart, you know as well as me that no Rick is gonna turn down the chance to get inta this bar. It’s got a reputation, thanks ta you.”

Okay, so maybe you hadn’t been keeping your little extracurricular activities on the down low as much as you thought. It wasn’t your fault Ricks couldn’t keep their mouths shut, or that the members of both the SEAL Team and Council of Ricks weren’t the most inconspicuous people around!

Still, it didn’t bother you too much, and as much as they ragged on you, the rest of the staff liked the tips they earned. 

You finished cleaning your area, helped wipe down and set the chairs on the tables so the early crew could do a final sweep, and headed out the front door. You locked it behind you.

Turning around and fumbling for your keys, you almost bumped into the Morty standing right behind you.

“Jesus fuck!” you cried, startled. 

He flinched, as Mortys are wont to do. It was the same Morty who’d tried to sneak into the Bar, and the bouncer’s description was right: the kid was piscine. Tiny scales gave his arms a slight silvery sheen. He was wearing some type of water filled bowl over his head; you could see bubbles circulating through the liquid so his Rick must have designed this respirator for him. He had just a suggestion of a nose, and periodically gills opened to show the filaments and lamellae in the sides of his neck. 

“S-s-sorry,” he stuttered. His voice was muffled and a little tinny, from the microphone apparatus built into his headgear.

You tried to catch your breath after the adrenaline rush. “You scared me!”

The kid hung his head as best he could wearing a fish bowl. One arm clutched the opposite elbow in a classic demonstration of embarrassment.

“It isn’t you,” you hastened to explain. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be standing here, waiting for me.”

He considered this: that you weren’t scared of his appearance, just that he’d walked up to you without you knowing. He seemed to accept this, and looked more at ease as he nodded. 

“I, uh, I have a . . . well, a message, I guess? From R-r-rick? He wanted to know if you’d visit him?” 

Every sentence lilted upward like a question. 

Morty continued, his voice also ratcheting higher with perceived rejection. “So, yeah, he-he gave me this n-note to give to you? If that’s okay, if you want it . . .”

Although it ran through your head that your rule was not to go to any Rick’s place, this was a weird situation and you took the damp piece of paper the kid offered. He passed it over meekly. You didn’t miss that his hands were webbed, as you’d been told, nor that the nails at the tips of his fingers were needle-like spikes. He could do some real damage with those if he was so inclined.

Carefully opening it--it was folded and the paper stuck together on itself--it didn’t tell you more than what Morty had already said. It was from a Rick, and he would be interested in meeting you. 

You could read between the lines as to why.

Morty shifted on his feet. It dawned on you that he looked unsteady, and wondered if he was more comfortable in water than on dry land. 

“Rick said, he said that this was a special chip,” Morty piped up, holding out what looked like a gold coin in the scaled palm of his hand. “I have one too. It takes you from one place, and then-then back to where you came from.”

You stared at the device for a moment. 

“Are you going to take it?” 

You didn’t go to Ricks. They came to you. That’d been your one main rule since the start. You had never seen this Morty before; you knew nothing about this Rick. You should turn it down. You had no idea where this was going to take you--

Throwing caution to the wind, you gently picked the coin out of Morty’s hand. He didn’t smile or frown or give any reaction to your choice. 

“Are you coming too?” you asked him.

He shook his head, making the liquid inside his bowl slosh. “I-I-I don’t get to n-new places much. I’m just going to stay here for a little bit.”

“The Bar’s closed. No one will be back for ten hours, and there’s a security system that’s armed,” you cautioned him.

“I’m just going to sit here and look at the sky,” he replied. 

You glanced up when he did, taking in the galaxy around you. You supposed it was pretty, if you didn’t see it nearly every day. But it begged the question: why would that be so interesting to a Morty? Didn’t his Rick do space travel? 

“Okay,” you reluctantly agreed. “Don’t go too near the edge of the rock. The anti-grav dome extends over it, but you shouldn’t get too close.”

Morty nodded absently and began to wander away. His gait was more shuffling than steps, and it made you wonder again about where he spent most of his time.

Taking a breath, you secure your belongings and pressed the chip. A portal opened up, and you stepped through. 

⁂

You walked onto a rocky beach on an unknown planet. The beach stretched for miles in either direction. The ocean in front of you did the same; disappearing into the horizon as far as you could see, until it was difficult to determine what was water and what was sky. There were two suns overhead. The larger of the two was setting. The other, either smaller or farther away, was still high in the sky. 

When you turned to look behind you, you realized that you were on a small island. It was so miniscule it would only take you a minute or two to reach the opposite beach. Scrub grasses were the only vegetation, and the only life you could see were tiny crab-like creatures scuttling about and hiding between the rocks.

It was a peaceful but desolate place. 

A little wind ruffled your hair. Luckily it was warm--probably thanks to the large sun that would bake this place if it was high noon--because you were only wearing a tank top and jeans. The sun had dipped further under the horizon, but it was so large it still filled a third of the sky. You didn’t know if it was setting faster than you were used to, or if somehow you’d been here longer than you remembered. The smell of salt water was pleasant and familiar, like the times you’d visited a beach on Earth.

You hugged yourself and turned in a circle, wondering what you were supposed to do now. 

“You came,” a gravelly voice, a Rick voice, said behind you.

Spinning around, you were met by the sight of a Rick waist deep in the water. His hair was the customary blue, but flat from the water and woven with tiny strands of seaweed. He skin looked scaled, like his Morty had been, but he also had spiked fins running from wrist to elbow. He wore no shirt or pants that you could see, but the water was slate grey and provided no visibility below the surface.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Your Morty waited until the Bar closed for me.”

You watched gills open and close on the sides of his neck, under his jaw. What startled you more was seeing his eyelids across his eyes, instead of up and down, when he blinked.

“You don’t need the . . . apparatus that Morty was wearing?” you asked, for want of something to say.

“Do you really want to talk about Morty?” Rick countered drily. “I assume you know why I asked you here.”

You blinked. Yes, of course you knew. The casual expectation of it, although not unheard of from Ricks and not even remotely the crudest way you’d heard it put, wasn’t what threw you a little off. It was the fact that you’d agreed to come here in the first place, to who-knows-where, and found yourself stranded on a spit of land in the middle of an endless ocean. 

Then it occurred to you that you did have a way out; you had the portal chip still in your hand. 

“I’m not exactly the same as Morty,” Rick continued, in your silence. He seemed to understand that you were questioning your decision, and was making nice. “We share some of the same traits--”

He gestured vaguely to himself; you noted his nails were the same needles at their tips you’d seen on the boy.

“--but we’re not cut from exactly the same cloth. He needed a little extra help breathing on that dry rock the Bar sits on, but I wouldn’t be able to make it there easily myself. You’re familiar with the central finite curve of Ricks? I fall further out on the curve.”

You nodded and shrugged a little.

He didn’t seem exasperated that you didn’t understand. 

More questions flitted through your head, however. Not about the curve of Ricks, whatever that was. It sounded too technical for you. But how did he know about the Bar? How had he heard about you? There was nothing on this rock, did he live here? Did he live underwater? That would make the most sense, with his fins and gills--

“Will you join me?” Rick asked, holding his hand, palm raised, to you.

“You’re not coming up here?” 

He chuckled. “No. I’m not built for being on land.”

Was he a mermaid? Merman? Did he have a fish tail under the water that you couldn’t see?

You didn’t ask those questions. Instead, you tell him quietly, “I can’t swim well. This water seems pretty calm, but I’m just not very good at it . . .”

Rick chuckled again, this time at your worry. He must have been pleased you had stuck around this long and didn’t directly turn him down. 

“Stay here a moment,” he told you, and without waiting for your answer, sunk beneath the water.

The sun too, continued to sink. The smaller of the two was still high overhead, but must not provide this planet with much light. It was dimmer now, a soft twilight. You sat on the beach and waited, shaking off the little crab-creatures when they got curious and tried to climb your legs. In a short while, Rick resurfaced near where he’d been before. 

“Here,” he told you, and tossed something at you. 

Automatically you tried to catch it, juggled it because it was slimy, and dropped it. Picking it up gingerly, you almost squealed when you realized it was some unknown sea creature. Its body was gelatinous and nearly clear. Long strands hung limply from part of it, dangling out of your hand, and it moved weakly. It took you a lot of willpower not to drop the thing again. 

“Eat it,” Rick advised. 

“What is . . . it?” you asked instead. If you looked at it closely, you were pretty sure you could see internal organs. 

“Is that what’s important here? Just swallow it, and you won’t drown.”

You weren’t sure if that convinced you. You glanced up at Rick, who was still waist deep in the water. Some of the crab-things were extremely interested in the blob in your hand, and doubled their efforts to climb your legs. 

“Listen, baby, it won’t hurt you.”

The easy confidence and self-assuredness sounded more Rick-like than almost anything else he’d said so far. 

He continued, “It’s what I eat so I can be waiting here, out of the water for you. It’s an interesting little beast. It has some properties that alter you enough so you can breathe out of your natural element. I can breathe dry air, you’ll be able to breathe in water. I don’t know why something like that would evolve. I makes me wonder, sometimes . . .”

His voice drifted away as he turned his attention to the sky, as if contemplating more about the creation of the universe than any other Rick you’d ever met.

It was on the tip of your tongue to ask him about that, but was a philosophical discussion what you were here for? Instead, you said, “Properties . . .?”

Rick fixed you with the same caustic expression he’d had when you’d attempted to make small talk by broaching the subject of him not needing mechanical assistance, like his Morty.

“I’m sorry! I just . . . it’s weird, is all. This is all brand new--I don’t really come to Ricks, they come to me, and this is a Waterworld planet, and, and--”

A hint of a smile flitted across his face at your babbling like this was the first time you’d met Rick Sanchez. You got the impression that his teeth were sharp, like a shark’s. 

“Then I’m honored,” he said, and moved smoothly in the water, slightly closer towards the beach. “So trust me a little more . . .”

You examined the dying, jelly-like creature in your hand. Then you decided that looking at it too long was probably not in your best interest. You’d done a lot of things with a lot of Ricks, and they had all turned out okay. You didn’t consider yourself a daredevil, but with your lifestyle you supposed you were. Here was simply another leap of faith. With a silent prayer and while holding your breath, you quickly shoved it into your mouth and attempted to swallow it whole.

It was pure salt. That, plus the fact it hit the back of your throat while some of the long tentacles hung from your lips made you retch. With herculean effort, you swallowed and swallowed and managed to choke the the thing down. Your eyes watered and you imagined you could feel it sliding down into your stomach unpleasantly. 

You waited a moment to make sure it was going to stay down. You didn’t feel any different. 

“Join me?” Rick asked again. “The water’s fine.”

A giggle escaped you, despite the bad and obvious pick up line. He waited with an outstretched hand, and you pushed yourself up off the rocks on the beach. You took a step towards him.

“Sans clothing,” he told you with another faint smile and cock of his eyebrow.. “You won’t need them . . .”

Quickly, you stripped. You’d been scrutinized by a multitude of different Ricks while taking off your clothing before, so it didn’t bother you. You made sure the portal chip was secure in a pocket, folded your pants and shirt into messy piles and left them on your shoes, then shucked your bra and stepped out of your panties. Your undergarments went on top of the pile. 

The rocks under your feet were smooth and held warmth from the sun. You carefully stepped into the shallows where the water met the land, and the opaque water was warm as well. 

Rick was several feet from shore. You expected to be able to walk to him; he was only waist deep, after all, but after only one step closer to him, with only your ankles covered, the water around him and between the two of you erupted. Something moved sinuously just under the surface, making the water roll and slosh, and turning it frothy. It looked like eels, or whatever passed as eels on this alien planet. 

You almost jumped back onto the beach.

“There’s a drop off, baby. But don’t worry, I’ll catch you,” Rick told you.

You’d already stepped through an unknown portal, eaten an animal he wouldn’t even tell you the name of, and stood naked in front of him. You’d already proven you trusted him, or that you had lost all sanity.

The underwater thrashing didn’t stop. You took a breath, which oddly hurt your chest, and waded in further. 

He hadn’t been lying about the drop off. One second your feet were on the rocks; the next, you were floundering because there was no support under you at all. You almost went into your neck, but an unknown number of strong arms . . . tentacles? . . . grabbed you and held you up out of the water. Although some wrapped securely around you, others nudged at you, exploring your skin. 

With no direction from you, they moved you closer to Rick.

He held out a taloned hand, which you took carefully, and the felt but unseen arms lifted you to his torso. Now you could see that what held you were tentacles: blackish, constantly moving tentacles, and they were his. His lower half was a mass of them. Some, like the ones wrapped around you, were smooth and lithe. Others, slightly hidden between the ones supporting you, were smaller, thinner, and seemed to be more sensitive because they were the ones nosing about you, as if gathering information. They had something that looked like the suckers you would see on an octopus running along their underside. Spreading further out in the water like a cloak were a completely different type of tentacle: barbed, spiked, and dangerous looking. They didn’t move like the others did; they floated lazily and did not come near you.

“Hi baby,” Rick purred. Now that you were closer, his voice had a faint gurgling quality to to it that you’d never heard from a Rick before.

You took all this in, smiled, and opened your mouth to answer him. At the intake of air needed to speak, however, you gulped. Your chest burned, and automatically your free hand went to your throat.

“Let’s get you underwater, okay?” 

You wanted to tell him no, wait, give me a second, but he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest--his body was cold!--and sank beneath the water. Your instinct was to struggle. You pushed against him, your body telling you to keep your head above the water, it was dangerous, don’t do it--

\--you made a mighty attempt to get one last lungful of air before he pulled you under the surface.

Rick didn’t react to your struggling. He fell deeper in, his hair becoming loose and free in its natural environment. He stroked your head and almost seemed sympathetic to your panic, but he didn’t let you go.

You fought against opening your mouth in the water as long as you were able, but with your lungs on fire for want of oxygen, you finally had no choice. You gasped, and salt water flooded you. It sent you into a greater panic, gagging, sending countless bubbles of precious air racing to the surface of the water far above you, but Rick’s tentacles and arms held you tightly and in a moment, you’d lost the fight against your instinct. You took a breath. Found the air your lungs demanded. In a few moments you’d gained some equilibrium and your brain didn’t tell you you were dying. Bubbles rose from you again as you exhaled. 

Carefully, you breathed in again, and discovered the taste of salt was gone, and you were fine. It took a few more seconds to truly believe you were breathing normally underwater. The weightlessness of the medium was a new sensation too, and it was pleasant. 

You managed to smile at Rick, and he grinned back, showcasing his triangular teeth.

“Okay, baby?” he asked, bubbles rising from his mouth too. 

You had no idea how you could hear him speak so clearly underwater, but like so much else tonight, you didn’t question it. 

Rick let you explore this new environment a little. Without fins or webbed appendages you were clumsy and slow, but you swam as best you knew how. Based on what you had seen of the surface, you expected not to have much visibility, but the water was surprisingly clear. You could see unknown fishes dart passed you in silvery schools, but most were too quick to be examined closely and stayed far away from you both. There were fronds of plants rooted into the bottom of the sea below you.

It was disorienting have total freedom of movement without gravity trying to constantly reclaim you, but you got used to it quickly. 

Rick kept easy pace with you. When he didn’t touch you at all--which was rare; his hand was either on your back or one of his tentacles reached out to wind around a limb--you saw he was long and lean, like all the Ricks you’d met, but any similarity dissolved at his waist. The mass of tentacles that made up his lower half was uncountable. They were in constant movement, testing the water or touching your skin, unless he was moving more quickly. Then he became more streamlined, all smooth, each tentacle held tightly together as one appendage. 

It made you laugh to see him swim so effortlessly. He was mildly amused at your laughter, and zipped around you several times. You wondered if he’d ever had an audience to show off for, to flaunt his superiority. He may live underwater, he may be part--or mostly--fish, but he was a Rick, and that need ran deep.

So did his libido. His tentacles slipped more than once along your inner thighs to explore your pussy, or to circle your nipples and stimulate them to hardness. None of those touches lingered, at first. They grew bolder as you became more comfortable.

When you floated so you could see the surface of the water above you and watched wobbly bubbles of air drift upward to burst when they met the air, Rick swam above you, blocking your view. His body may have still been cold, pressed to yours, but you didn’t register it any longer. You and he both made an effort to keep the wicked spines on his defense tentacles far away from your skin. 

He kissed you, and it wasn’t as odd as you expected. Your hands weaved into his hair and he copied you, his long fingernails gently pushing through your hair as well to keep you close. You were careful of his teeth. His tongue, like all Rick’s, was demanding. It was also thin and slightly bristled. It made you wonder, in a brief second of panic, what his cock would be like, but after a few moments of kissing the mass of tentacles swarmed you, enveloped you, and it didn’t matter.

Caught and supported in the nest of constantly roaming arms, you had even less worry about your ineptness in the water. Although you could feel the strength in them--some were as thick as your legs--each one was gentle and didn’t wrap too tightly around you or pull too hard. 

It was like a hundred different hands and tongues on you all at once, and you laughed and gasped and cried out.

They delved between your legs, stimulating all the nerve endings along your pussy. Others continued to play with your nipples, and when Rick dropped his head and licked them with the soft bristles on his tongue and nipped at them with those serrated teeth of his, your back arched with the pleasure of it. You wrapped your arms around his head to keep him close and he nibbled at one, then the other until each felt like you were on fire, and arousal spread throughout your body.

You were tentative, at first, touching his tentacles, focusing your attention to his arms and chest. But occasionally you would brush against part of his lower body. He liked it; even your timid, feather-light touches made him gasp softly, so it wasn’t long before you stroked them, or wrapped your hand around the thinner ones and pulled. There were slight color changes in his skin that trailed behind the touch of your hand. 

That fascinated you, and you rubbed him faster, or slower, or with more pressure just to see the varying colorful mottling that he didn’t seem to have voluntary control over. 

Rick let you play. You weren’t sure if he had lungs, but he opened his mouth in a parody of needing air, and moaned. His head would drop back. The stimulation made him arch his back occasionally too, just as you had, with the pleasure.

When you happened to notice he had a row of spikes that ran along his spine that rose as you ran your hands on him, you also dared to stroke the largest of his tentacles: the ones that were adorned with their own threatening spikes. You used your fingertips to carefully caress him, making sure to go with them instead of against their orientation.

That made every spike on his body flare, and Rick cried out sharply. You were immediately crushed to him, every soft tentacle wrapped around you, holding you close. You gasped too; his immediate aroused reaction to your touch was exhilarating to you as well.

“I w-want to-to fuck you,” he growled, before his mouth captured yours again forcefully.

You laughed at his urgency and gasped at his insistence. The tentacles were everywhere, still, but conveyed more eagerness and need. 

You carefully slipped a hand through the mass, to where his groin would be if he were a land creature. That made him pull back from your mouth for a moment, watching your face.

What you felt but didn't see was completely foreign to you. It was slick there, and there was some constant compression around your hand from the tentacles. Your fingers bumped into something longer and tubular, which made Rick half close his eyes and hiss at the sensation, but if that was his cock it was also rough and barbed. It didn't cause pain in your palm, per se, but it did make you itch. 

Your hand released whatever that was, quickly. Rick chuckled at your reaction.

You licked your lips and attempted to keep a neutral expression on your face. “Is that . . . uhm. Is it your . . .?”

You weren’t sure how finish that question without being insulting. Frankly, it worried you.

Luckily, Rick was only amused by your discovery and subsequent concern.

“Yes,” he answered your unfinished query. He dropped his mouth back to your neck, under your ear and nibbled the sensitive skin there. He felt you swallow at the admission, and made you fret a little longer for his own amusement before assuring you, murmuring against your neck, “I don't expect to fuck you in a traditional way, baby. There are other things we can do.

“Unless, of course, you’d like to try . . .”

Your hand still itched in irritation. You could only imagine what his cock would do to the more sensitive skin of your pussy.

Hoping you weren’t going to make him mad, you told him you’d prefer to try the non-traditional method.

He chuckled again, kissed you hard on the mouth, and agreed. He told you, however, that it meant you wouldn't get the attention from all his tentacles; he may need one to jerk himself off with.

You agreed, and stroked the largest of his tentacles again coquettishly.

That made him shudder in pleasure, and the water eddied around you as he finally let them truly start to pleasure you.

Two wrapped around your left leg, and several caught your right. They spread your thighs, and the tip of another dipped just inside your cunt. The feeling sent electricity through you. It didn’t enter you fully, however; it just teased. Several more of the smaller tentacles joined it, caressing you as they explored your folds. The suckers on them tickled and stimulated you simultaneously, making you writhe in the nest of tentacles supporting you.

Rick hadn’t stopped nuzzling your neck, but at one point groaned how you good tasted. At first you thought he meant your throat. Then you realized he was receiving a lot of information from his lower half; it was another odd thing to consider, him being able to taste you without using his mouth, but that quickly went to the back of your mind as he continued. 

One of the suckers latched onto your clit and your back arched in response. The thicker tentacle that had been teasing you by only shallowly dipping inside thrust forward, finally. It filled you just as a cock would, long and full. Bubbles burst from your mouth, rising erratically towards the surface as you cried out. 

You felt Rick’s mouth widen to a grin at your reaction. Although you were kept securely close to him by a throng of tentacles not actively involved in touching you, one of his arms wrapped around you and the other drew its nails down your side. That was ticklish and you squirmed; that only served to make him do it again. 

When you managed to open your eyes, you were startled to see a slightly predatory glint in his, watching you intently. You batted his hand away from you, which made some of the tentacles near that arm jerk back, and it seemed to dawn on him why. He withdrew his hand but smirked at the same time. You pinched him in mock retaliation, and the smirk became a grin as he kissed you again. 

The sucker that had attached itself to your clit was gentle but insistent, and provided a constant stimulation. The tentacle inside you didn’t thrust as you’d expected a cock to do, and you mewled in disappointment. You didn’t realize you needed friction so much; your hips thrust against him automatically as best they could being restrained. Your efforts didn’t result in much. He was too strong, you were wrapped up and caught in the web of him too tightly to do more than wiggle ineffectively against him. 

Rick’s face took on that wolfish cast again, and it flashed through your mind that his prey had probably been captured just as you were right now: held closely to him so he could bite, and spread out to minimize thrashing before he tore them apart. Maybe he even told them how good they tasted, before he devoured them!

It was scary. But you doubted any of the creatures he ensnared and ate were actively being penetrated by him, or continuing to stroke his tentacles, so instead of truly struggling to get away as part of your mind was insisting, you took a breath and slipped one hand carefully around the back of his neck, mindful of the spikes, to pull his face closer to yours. 

“Fuck me, Rick!” you muttered into his mouth, before dipping your tongue between his lips. 

You felt him grin against you, and that tentacle inside you began moving just how your body so desperately wanted. 

As he thrust, he also loosened his hold on you so you could rut against him in return. The multiple sensations--your legs held firmly but gently, being filled, your clit constantly being squeezed, the writhing bed of supporting you, plus the relative weightlessness of being underwater--all merged into an overall new, full phenomenon. 

You had no sense of up or down. You were lost in the bliss of being completely surrounded and filled by Rick. There were no pressure points on any part of your body, there was no gravity to orient you. You floated, you drifted; the pleasure he wrung from you came in waves, just like the ocean around you. You were a land creature, only a visitor to this environment, but this was intoxicating.

You tried to continue stroking him as well, as best you could while being overcome with impending release. Rick seemed to continue to like it; his tentacles rose to your hand and tips of the free ones curled through your fingers. The movement of the one inside you increased too, in response to what you did, but that was counterproductive because it was difficult to concentrate with the pleasure mounting in your cunt.

The moans and gasps both of you created melted together.

Wanting to tell him to slow down, wait a moment, please Rick, you managed to open your eyes once again.

The water around you was darker. You didn’t know if the sun had finally set completely, or if you’d both sunk into deeper water, but silvery blue dots and stripes had broken out along Rick’s tentacles, and up the outsides of his arms, near the spiked fins. 

The unexpected beauty of it--of him--made you gasp. 

It drew you away from the pleasure in your groin for a moment. You made an effort to pull one of his tentacles, and watched the bioluminescence follow your hand, just as the mottling color had. You laughed. You stroked him in different places to watch the light show, poked him to leave a spot, and found that lighter touches created a more warm, yellow-ish glow than more firm strokes.

Rick reveled in your caresses. His lower half twisted and each appendage vied for your attention, minus the ones devoted specifically for you. He never released you either, although now you were passed gently from one supportive arm to another in an never-ending motion that rocked you.

Tumbling through the water, locked in a mutual embrace and in mutual pleasure, you both pressed together and cried out. Rick didn’t need to keep a tight hold on you any longer; you actively clung to him as you neared your peak. He knew it too; not only weren’t you able to caress him, but your voice hitched higher, and your pussy tightened around him. 

One of your arms hooked around his head, burying his face in the side of your neck again. Out of the water, in a bed or any place else, he’d have had a difficult time breathing, but his gills allowed him to be held in the awkward position without complaint. In fact, he pressed in closer, taking a healthy bite of your skin between his dangerous teeth, and shaking his head slightly. 

If you’d been less on the cusp of orgasm you’d have panicked. As it was, however, with his tentacle penetrating you and another applying the most specific pressure you’d ever felt on your clit, you simply couldn’t think of the possible implication behind this gesture. 

And when he growled, “Come for me, baby--that’s right, come for me--” just like so many other Ricks, you succumbed to the pleasure. You were conditioned for it.

You came hard, arching against him, every muscle taut, crying out his name. 

It seemed to last forever. Bliss radiated through your body, making you tremble as it began to ebb away. There was still a tentacle deep inside you but you had to pry the one on your clit away; it was too much.

Rick didn’t protest however, because you now realized he was stroking himself. He never released you, but multiple thinner tentacles curled up underneath him, where you’d felt his cock. Sudden guilt rushed you; had he been doing that to himself all along and you were so selfishly wallowing in your own pleasure you didn’t know it?

Your hand took one of the tentacles that had moved to his most intimate area.

“Can I see?” you asked, breathlessly.

The request seemed to surprise him. But after a moment’s consideration, Rick held you securely and swam upward, closer to the surface of the water again. Most of his bioluminescence faded as you entered less dark water. Once there, he turned so you were above him and shifted you downward along his body so you weren’t face to face any longer. The tentacle that had stayed in your cunt slipped out, and you moaned at the loss. It fondled your pussy moment more, sliding through your folds, before it stretched upward to Rick’s mouth. He sucked at it; you saw his tongue lapping the flavor of you off himself. It was erotic, and if you hadn’t been exquisitely tender between your legs you would have fingered yourself.

When he finished cleaning himself of your taste, he situated you where he wanted you to be. You’d be in the perfect position to give him a blowjob, if the two of you were more traditionally sexually compatible. Then he spread himself and you had the perfect view to watch him stroke along his shaft. 

Nothing had been conventional tonight, and this was no different. He didn’t use any upward pulls on his cock at all, due to the barbs. Instead, a tentacle stroked down, from tip to base. Each was immediately followed by another, in a never ending cycle that quickened as you watched. You glanced up at him, like you would have if you were sucking him off; Rick had his teeth bared and his gills flared and shut more rapidly as he drew closer to his own orgasm. 

You took your eyes off his for a second. Just long enough to wrap your own hand around his cock, and copy the motion of his tentacles. The itching irritation you’d experienced earlier wasn’t quite as bad as it had been.

He cried out at your touch, throwing his head back at the pleasure. 

Being completely supported and with both hands free, you took up the activity. You couldn’t move as quickly as his own tentacles did, and you weren’t as smooth because the motion was slightly awkward and the opposite of anything you’d done before, but that didn’t seem to make a difference to him.

Now he trembled and arched and the silver dots and stripes erupted along his body again, involuntarily. Points of light, although much fainter than on his tentacles, became visible on his torso too. One of his hands threaded through your hair and held your head tightly. He locked eyes with you and as you added a slight twist to the movement your hand made, he roared as he came. 

His semen was more viscous than the water, with the faintest hint of shimmer to it. It floated away cohesively from his body, in the area between him and you, and without thinking, you opened your mouth and caught some on your tongue.

His fingers spasmed in your hair and you glanced up at him again. 

“Th-that was fucking hot,” he croaked.

You couldn’t repeat it; it dispersed too widely into the water. But you did risk injury by giving him a quick swipe of your tongue to the tip of his cock, licking away a bead of residual ejaculate that clung there. 

Rick jerked at the touch and you were gathered up in his tentacles again, holding you, nudging you, each of them seeming to attempt to touch or caress you in some way. He kissed you again, and as you rested on his chest for a bit you both floated gently in the tide together. 

Eventually, though, you felt him actively swimming again. You held onto him and let him do the work, and soon your heads broke the surface of the water.

The tiny island was nearby. Although the large sun was now only a sliver along the horizon, the secondary sun still cast its cool light. There were no stars visible in the sky; it dawned on you why Morty might have wanted to see all the constellations and galaxies you considered so commonplace you didn’t notice them any longer. 

“The effects of the jellyfish should be almost gone,” Rick told you.

You’d forgotten. It had become so natural to breathe underwater that when you coughed and brought liquid out of your lungs, it was a surprise. As if a dam had broken, you were suddenly wracked with a coughing fit. You hacked more and more fluid up. Rick supported you and soothed you with meaningless words as it happened. 

When you were finally able to pull in a lungful of dry air and it didn’t hurt, he lifted you as effortlessly as when you were submerged to the land again. You must look a mess: shivering, with your hair dripping and lanky from being underwater, but Rick smiled up at you. 

Standing as far into the ocean as you could before the drop off, you reached for him one last time. He stretched upward and forward, and you were able to embrace him again, and kiss him. Although you hadn’t noticed it when you were in his element, now he tasted like salt. 

His grin broke the kiss. 

“Thank you,” he said.

Like so many other things tonight, a Rick expressing gratitude was uncommon. You cupped his cheek. He took that hand and sunk beneath the waves until your fingertips were the only thing touching, then he was gone. 

You watched where he’d gone for a moment, then made your way back to the pile of your clothing. You shook out the crab-creatures that’d hidden in the folds, and began pulling on your clothes, Your skin was tacky from the saltwater, and you were coated in a thin veneer of slick mucus you hadn’t known about before. It wasn’t unpleasant, and you realized it must have been residual from his tentacles. 

Shrugging, you grappled yourself back into your clothes and dug the portal chip out of your pocket. You looked to see if he’d made a return appearance, but when you saw he hadn’t, you depressed the chip, and stepped through the resulting doorway of greens and yellows, back to the dry rock you’d come from. 

_fin._


End file.
